Dear Diary
by LetterBeeNations
Summary: A bunch of shorts written from the pictures created on the Tumblr page; hetaliadiaries. Different pairings and circumstances, none of them interlock unless I write it as an interlocking chapter. Yes, I have permission from the creator to use them
1. I wonder if Holy Rome was a dream

_Dear diary, sometimes I wonder if Holy Rome was only a dream…_

Italy closed the book he was looking through, it featured memories of when he was little and happier with… _him._

He had this way about him; it was adorable how shy the little black clad boy was around the Italian and how he did these little things for him every day mostly.

"Veh~ I miss those days," Italy mumbled under his breath before standing up, placing the book into the spot it had left and headed out from the ancient Roman styled library to head up to his bedroom.

The room was decorated differently than one would think of him. Italy's house in Venice was brightly coloured, much like a painter's pallet, and it tended to amaze everyone that stepped inside. His bedroom, however, was rather dark. Black, midnight blue and a dark blood red, it coated every wall and was the scheme of every piece of furnishings. The bed was a four poster in mahogany with red drapes that he tended to let down, veiling his vision of outside the cosy bed, the covers were in the same red with white sheets underneath.

Around the room was blue furnishings; chairs with blue colour, a sofa to match and a midnight rug laid out with a mahogany coffee table on top.

Italy looked around, gave a sigh while falling on top of the bed, eyes closing as he was hugged by the plush covers. His mind whirled around in a daze, flashes of images displaying on his closed eyelids as if he was in a cinema. A wild blur of colours roughly lulled the nation into sleep in which he fitfully dreamt.

_Little Chibitalia was just returning to Austria's house after filling the little pail with fresh spring water before seeing Holy Rome just a little ahead, holding a canvas in his small hands. _

"_Hm?" Chibitalia turned his body over as he caught full sight of the young nation._

"_Ah…" Holy Rome blushed gently, looking down at the canvas he was holding._

"_Hm?" Chibitalia repeated again, looking closely at the conflicted boy before he registered what was going on and put the canvas behind his back, blue eyes going wide._

"_Good morning, Holy Rome!" The excited boy exclaimed, hurrying towards his childhood love._

_The boy in black leaned forward, looking slightly tormented, as he shouted, "S-Stop!"_

_Chibitalia stopped dead in his track, mouth forming the tiniest 'o' shape. "Huh?"_

"_Why do you run when I chase you and yet chase me when I run?"_

"_Holy Rome…"_

"_Listen, Italy. There's one thing I need to tell you." The boys eyes were tinted in sadness as the loud marching of soldiers caught Italy's attention. Looking up, the nation saw many men moving from the stone archway._

"_I-I'm sorry about everything," his face turned down, hands still holding the canvas as dullness clouded the normally bright blue. "I have to leave, so you can feel at ease."_

"_Wh-What do you mean?" Chibitalia had left the pail on the ground a few steps behind, hands in front as looking at the saddened boy._

"_I mean exactly what I said."_

_At the moment, two men turned around, dressed in a tan green tunic and brilliant red capes. "Holy Rome, we'd better get going."_

_Holy Rome turned slightly, his sight never fully leaving Chibitalia's. "Okay," he then turned back, a slightly hardened setting of his face. "See you, then. Take care."_

_With those words, Holy Rome and the two guards turned around to march off with the rest of the army before the tiny voice interrupted Holy Rome's movements for the briefest moment._

"_Ah… Are you really leaving?" No answer was given. "No… I don't want you to, Holy Rome. Wait! Wait! Oh no! What should I do?" His little hands waved, trying to grab the other's attention. "Holy Rome!"_

_Tears cascaded down Chibitalia's cheeks as he tried to shout for his childhood love, the bonnet making his voice sound a little croaked. This finally made the black dressed boy turn around to find the Italian holding his beloved push broom with big tears welled in his eyes._

"_I… I'll give this to you. This… Think of it as me and take it with you, Holy Rome." The broom was very simple, nothing big or extravagant, just a little wooden broom with thick grey bristles._

_This surprised the little boy, blue eyes widening in delight. "A push broom… Why are you giving me such a thing?"_

Because I love you, Holy Rome. _It was what Italy wanted to say, with all his heart and was about to before Holy Rome gasped._

"_Italy…" the boys eyes turned softer, more gentle as he whispered the name, taking steps toward the nation in the green dress to reach forward and grab hold of the broom. "Thank you. I accept your feelings."_

_Chibitalia let out a soft smile, saddened though it may be. The wind blew, causing their clothing to flutter about, a sweet bitterness to the invisible wave. _

"_Well then, I'll give you something, too. What do people do for someone they like at your home?"_

He… Likes me?_ The little nation thought as soft words left his lips. "K… Kiss, I think."_

_A faint blush played on the black dressed boy. "I-I see."_

_He lent forward, whispering softly. "I've always liked you since the tenth century, you know."_

_Then, in a daze at those words, Chibitalia left small and gentle lips press against his while a hand curled around his arm to pull him in closer. For a moment all Italy could do was freeze up in shock, his mind whirling around the fact that Holy Rome –his first ever love –actually liked him in return. Slowly, Chibitalia relaxed, a few lone tears escaping as he wished that this moment could last forever. It was bittersweet however when Holy Rome pulled back. _

"_R-Really?" He needed to know, so badly._

"_Yes really. I'm not lying."_

_Chibitalia perked up a little, smiling ever so gently which in return caused Holy Rome to smile softly. "I'm happy to hear that."_

"_W-Well, see you, Italy. When the war is over, I'll definitely come to see you…"_

The dream started to waver as Italy felt someone shaking at him.

"You stupid idiot, get the hell up!"

Italy blinked his eyes open, glaring up at his brother. "What do you want, Romano?" Contrary to popular belief, the north half of Italy was a much meaner person upon waking up.

"You were crying and screaming in your sleep, fratello." Romano's darker hazel eyes were full of concern for his little brother.

"I-I was?" Italy raised a hand to his cheek, finding it wet. "What was I screaming?" He asked, looking at his moist fingertips.

"That 'he lied, he's a liar. He never came back.' Do you want to talk about it?"

Italy shook his head, moving to sit up with his knees against his chest.

"If you do, I'll be downstairs cooking a nice big bowl of pasta."

Italy lifted his head. "With lots of fratello's special tomato sauce?"

Romano nodded. "Si. Si, fratello. I'll make the sauce."

"Grazie," Italy gave a soft smile which he kept up until he was sure Romano would not turn around and was downstairs.

His head dropped back onto his knees, a small hiccup leaving him as he allowed tears to fall down his cheeks and fall to the bed covers.

"H-Holy Rome… Wh-Why didn't you c-come back?" Italy whispered into the empty, quiet room while sobs racked him. "I-I've been w-waiting all this t-time… Were y-you just a dr-dream? Please… T-Tell me…" He lifted up his head, eyes becoming puffy from the crying, bloodshot from the salty sting before he let out a semi-loud wail.

"Holy Rome! Don't tell me you were just a dream!" Italy screamed, pretty sure his brother could hear him from the kitchen yet he gave no thought as he went back to crying large, heartbreaking sobs.


	2. Italy Isn't A Virgin

_Dear diary, Italy isn't a virgin. Italy isn't a virgin at all…_

Ludwig casually strolled down the streets of beautiful Italy in search of his friend and fellow nation. Upon arriving at Feliciano's home of Venice, the German noticed that the bubbly man was nowhere inside (even though Feliciano knew exactly what time Ludwig would be appearing and had left the door unlocked for him) nor around the property.

The side streets were packed with people who all tried to avoid the German from how menacing he appeared as he continued looking for Feliciano. Pulling out his phone, Ludwig decided it was time to call Feli to ask where he was. To his surprise, it picked up after four rings to frantic panting.

"Veh~ Buongiorno," Feliciano's breathing was slightly laboured, a little strained, as if the Italian was starting a frantic workout.

"Feliciano, where in the world are you?" A surprising moan sounded on the other side, causing the German to blink as if he didn't trust his ears. "And what was that?"

A soft chuckle from Feliciano. "Nothing, Ludwig. Just spending some time with the locals of beautiful Venice," a girly giggle came then, one that could not have been made from the Italian.

This piqued the German's interest. "Then you wouldn't mind telling me where you are."

No words were made from Feliciano's side, except for harsh breaths before he finally answered. "Si. I'm at hotel Rialto by the Riva del Vin." With those words, the call was dropped with a final loud moan.

The German, having been there in the past, hurried through the streets of Venice until arriving at the door of the beautiful hotel. Pushing through the doors he headed to the checkout counter, asking for the room that Feliciano Vargas had occupied in fluent Italian. The man spoke which room, allowing the German to head up and, just before knocking on the door, a muffled scream rang out behind it. Ludwig, fearing that something wrong has happened, kicked open the door to reveal a girl bouncing on the Italian's lap, withering in pleasure.

Feliciano smirked gently. "Veh~ Ludwig, so nice of you to join us," he lifted a hand, holding the girls face so she was looking at Ludwig with pleasure filled eyes. "Say hello, belle."

The girl let out a moan, trying to fall her head back. "Buongiorno, Buongiorno," she panted, almost to the point of screaming once more. His other hand rested around her waist, quickly moving her as she rode him, licking the side of her neck while casting a devious look towards Ludwig.

"Would you like to join us, veh?"

Ludwig's face had turned dark red, a hand covering his nose while his eyes never left the appealing image. "I-I don't think I-I should…"

"Oh? I think you might. I'm sure she wouldn't mind performing a 'London bridge' and she's very good with her mouth," he kissed her cheek. "Aren't you, belle?"

She nodded, whimpering while due to the lack of friction, grinding her hips down into his. "Oh, very good, Signor Vargas."

"And you wouldn't mind performing on my friend, now would you?"

"Not at all, Signor Vargas. Just, please, continue on," her accent became much more thick, head rolling as much as Feliciano's hand would allow her to.

Ludwig shook his head, "I really shouldn't, you two seem happy without someone intruding."

But Feliciano insisted, going as far to whisper into the girls' ear that he wouldn't continue unless she persuaded Ludwig to join them. And persuade him she tried. Crawling on hands and knees off of Feliciano's lap, onto the floor, to kneel in front of the larger man, hands undoing the belt and freeing his member.

Her tongue circled, eyes looking up at the blonde with lust gleaming, closing her soft lips around the tip and giving nice strong suckles.

At the end of the night, after the long hours of continuous sex, Ludwig finally came to the conclusion that Feliciano Vargas, Northern Italy, was no way a virgin… Not in the slightest.

**/Here is the link to the picture this chapter is about; **

24. media. tumblr tumblr_ m5e1751Vae1r5nk48o1_1280. jpg

**Of course it's only one world though, not broken up like now\\**


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